So I gave him something to read.

I looked at him for a moment, and then I let my gaze drop, slowly, down to the floor, to his shoes, the picture of a woman who has just been put in her place.

“I understand,” I said softly.

And Gavin Prescott smiled, deeply satisfied, certain now that he had just cowed two helpless women, that the daughter was as manageable as the mother, that his secret was safe and his plan could proceed.

He had no idea that what he had actually just done was tell a former tactical operator, in his own kitchen, exactly who he was and exactly what he was planning.